


I Will Become your goal

by Seven_Alice



Category: Cthulhu Mythos - H. P. Lovecraft
Genre: Attraction, Dream Quest of unknown Kadath, M/M, Mentions of Warren/Carter, Randolph Carter's many adventures, Teasing, The Silver Key, Through the gates of the Silver key
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 09:51:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17578607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seven_Alice/pseuds/Seven_Alice
Summary: After watching for so long Randolph Carter, Nyarlathotep found himself fascinated and annoyed by the man more and more, witnessing his development through so many adventures...What makes him so amusing? Could it be his ties with the All in One? Or his simply wonderful bravery along his unspeakable shyness?Whatever it was, it made him become Nyarlathotep's goal.





	I Will Become your goal

"Seek from within, from within

Then you will begin to see past uncertainty.

Let out your cries from within, from within

Remember who you used to be

Everyday can be your new beginning"

 

And as Randolph Carter enjoyed his newly found flawless, joyful life in the city of his dreams, probably dancing at the quiet harmony of nature sounds that predominate in the old Boston filled with gentlemen and contains every memory of a treasured past, undoubtedly in the company of his cat pet or the many other nameless felines he feeds religiously every night; Nyarlathotep, the crawling Chaos barked the most awful atrocities in unknown languages his human form wasn't quite capable to make out, against the bulky and sickeningly happy earth gods that were just getting comfortable after their return to the cold Kadath. Probably brushing away the spider webs and dust accumulated in their ridiculous thrones.

Not that they were able to understand and neither they were paying attention, as for them the Edonism is mostly everything and it seemed to erase from their views whatever may affect such a cherished glee. Yet as much as the crawling chaos wished to rip their cheeky smiles; this was their reign and so outer gods willed for it to stay. Just like Nyarlathotep himself they lacked interest in such a measly reign, already having more than enough in their court beyond the starry sky. Only cosmic tragedies have resulted after so many cosmic deities allowed their eyes to precisely wander in a precise, shallow spot. As funny as it may be to watch, the black pharaoh could get his amusement from somewhere else, no need to disturb his masters for such a matter that was ironically caused by a mere, nostalgic human with a weak, timid nature.

He was like the precise, shallow spot Nyarlathotep allowed his eyes to wander on for far too long.

Not only this was his duty to attend and get the earth gods back, he wanted to tease and cause wonderful despair to Randolph Carter. These faces he would make out of horror and unspeakable fear were something he couldn't get enough of, and much to his incredible chagrin the man - no, he wasn't even a man. A young man still - managed foil his plan and enter in his own personal paradise, where he surely is feeding first quality canned tuna to the stray cats that come and go as they please. Nyarlathotep had planned everything, and as many times as he lazily ordered his cultists and servants from the moon to bring Carter to him, he was well aware the fear would ignite the adrenaline that would eventually take him to Kadath. Still, the crawling chaos enjoyed throughly Carter's utter horror and how it possessed his slim, noodle like body, as he tried to find a way out and took any opportunity even if it were to bring him death. That would also be funny to see, to mock and laugh, although back in Leng when the high priest not to be named scared the mind out of Randolph and lead him to an - insanely found - way out, it would have been a problem if the young man died, since he'd probably wake up and forget important facts about his quest, and they'll have to start over. Something Nyarlathotep wouldn't be quite glad about, since being in the stupid city which belongs to the equally foolish earth gods is not exactly his favorite task, considering what every other avatar of his would promise.

So, he waited and waited while watching the adventures of Randolph Carter in the dreamlands, like many other times he did, and was completely sure that the dreamer will either fall into a deep abyss of oblivion before reaching his dreamed city, or in the best case he'll witness the horrors in the nuclear disaster of flutes and drums, and be guided by that insane song that would twist and torn that brain of his. Probably leaving him clinically insane, self-destructive, or catatonic in an endless and dreamless sleep; chained to reality and not quite there but neither being able to access to that beautifully designed world of fantasy. That would be a good, amusing enough punishment for someone who yearned for the everything and all but instead was left with nothing.

Never in a millenia had Nyarlathotep guessed his advise would help the dreamer. To be honest, the way Carter advanced through every obstacle was indeed impressive in the world of dreamers, not everyone is able to create out of memories; twisted by the fantasy and happiness of other times, a city that would catch the attention of the earth gods, to the point the messenger of the outer gods, the crawling chaos had to slid his hand in the core of the problem. Carter's actions were both bold and unforgivable, but Nyarlathotep and the others were willing to. He didn't mean to, and besides, as stated before isn't like them to focus in a precise and shallow spot.

He only needed to finish the duty he set out to do in first place, but Nyarlathotep wasn't quite content with his misadventures so far. He wanted pain, suffering and to bring Carter to an unknown fate filled with a eternal song and madness, insanity and horrors out of this time. Wasn't it good enough for someone as special as him? But the FOOL had to come and think once, twice, and a billion times in Nyarlathotep's words until he managed to fulfill his duty rightfully. The Shantak bird must be burning in the starry void right now, laughing of its own fate.

Needless to say this infuriated the crawling chaos to no end. Because his plans always went like expected and in a way or another he got the desired amusement, not even a gifted dreamer like Carter would see the weak spot and use it to his advantage. It was utterly imposible, although Randolph gained his constant attention for his dream journeys ever since he was a child, the young man was weak willed, shy and awkward, unsuccessful in his actual life in which he thrived to be understood by his peers, and understand the gray and cruel world around him. A merciless world, that feels pity for no one and straightforwardly rejects every attempt to join into a society; like Carter's numerous attempts to publish his horror books but became disregarded among those who shared the same passion but an infinitely different point of view.

Probably because of that Carter began to be more accepting of these failures, and get over them as he forced himself to go along the flow and learn many other things there were outside, like a technological advance of sorts, and the faith his parents taught him. Common, plain things of a mundane and senseless world that goes around and round, and always ends with a bad joke in which we actually learn that everything came to be nothing at all. This realization hit Carter more sooner than later, and his nihilism only grew more and more, making him sour and moody. Nyarlathotep had to admit he was a bit impressed the man took account of such a reality so fast. Everyone always comes to understand too late the fact that we are nothing, born from the dust and small as a grain of dust; we'll return to dust once again.

Poor and little, tortured soul of an human man who yearned fantasy in his life... But as he continued his mortal life everything started to look even more gray and lose a meaningful shape. Well, not necessarily meaningful but an admirable shape Carter could think of a meaning for. His destrudo grew every time he began a new study and found it unsatisfactory, then discarded it without a care in the world, sabotaged his own work knowing it was worthless, and wished with his heart everything would be as fantastic as he sometimes speculated, but with the time pass he lost that ability as well. In plain words, Carter is exactly a shallow spot. Petty and uninteresting to Nyarlathotep, lacking the ability to dream beyond the realm of the living, he was as worthless as any other measly human, no matter how much of a dreamer he used to be during his childhood.

Then, something changed, something that made the crawling chaos set his eyes on him. It was inside the hellish place Harley Warren descended to, and found his doom in ironical and unspeakable ways he'd rather not mention. He didn't suffer that much, though, his insanity was brief before his death. And there was the radio, still connected to the surface by wire and working, the voice of a freaked out man who cried out after his lost friend and five years lover. And the avatar Nyarlathotep was using at that moment, inside that dimension so close to that of humans to the point it seemed like a hidden cave; felt the sudden need to answer the cries of despair and fear, he could have pulled the wire and drag Carter to the same fate, but found out death was too plain after witnessing Warren's head slid off his body with bloody ease. So, instead he picked up the radio and grinned incomprehensibly at the lack of air in Carter's lungs as he continued to yell. Although he found that particularly irritating; hadn't Warren said they wouldn't meet again? And still he continued to be a stubborn fool.

That's what his words conveyed in essence, shouting with his inhuman tongue "YOU FOOL, WARREN IS DEATH!" and immediately after laughing at how the human fainted, in the muddy and forgotten graveyard, he stayed there many hours and somehow ended somewhere else people could find him, but Nyarlathotep continued to laugh and laugh. Probably the second greatest shock in Carter's life, after the injury he received in his back during the World War, which caused him so much fear and nerves. Now that Warren was no more Randolph didn't allow anyone as close as he used to be; there were his friends Phillips and De Marigny, and the uncanny artist Richard Upton Pickman who now commands the ghouls of the dreamlands, but no one was ever allowed beside him just like Harley once came to be.

Nyarlathotep found himself disgusted by that man, whose head was sliced by some stupid slaves of his. Not only he was a fool like Carter who foresaw his fate but still carried it onwards to the very end, he probably knew too much. Such a surprise the tindalous hounds hadn't made a feast out of him. He was disgustingly knowledgeable, and for that became feared for no good reasons, as the duality he showed in front of people was a facade. Carter feared him, despite being lovers and friends, he feared Harley and in return the man was capable of dominating every aspect of Randolph's life if he wanted to; he could seize the smaller man any time he wanted and still have his faith, trust, and loyalty, but that's because he was a goddamn softie. In truth, the trust he gained from Carter came from the kind and tender personality he displayed with his beloved, the true face of a man veiled in mystery. Not only he was patient and caring of his timid partner, he accepted every eccentricity - because he clearly had his own ones - and put up with every quirk of Carter's, like how awkward and repellent the smaller man is about the theme of sex. Said fact made impossible any kind of intimacy, but Warren still bear with it and chose a different approach his partner found comfortable; as it consisted in no more than a massage in his damaged back. No matter how much that man would be feared and called blasphemous, Harley Warren was a person with a caring heart and a selfless will. That's why despite being easily seized and sometimes finding himself unnerved by his lover, Carter easily trusted him his life as well. Warren would never do anything to hurt him in realty, Randolph meant to him more than he was willing to let it show, no one else managed to make their way in the man's heart and gain his love like Carter did with his simplicity and shyness.

Randolph Carter lost so many valuable things; his ability to dream, his lover, the grace in one's life, a meaning to it. The ideas that came for new stories became sadder and sadder, with spices of a dark and moody humor that showed off a nihilistic view no one else seemed to understand.

Then how? Where did his directions change? When did new doors open to him? Where did the boldness to charge onwards such an adventure came? When did the tears he once shed became strength, and the later faint smiles of a better past turned into a smirk that carried the words "I win"? Why couldn't Nyarlathotep understand and accept he lost this time? Why such a shallow spot like him became so interesting to mess with, and the experience of seeing him drown in madness would only bring glee and pleasure to the Crawling Chaos? Where did Randolph acquire the key to his dreamlands once again? 

And something seemed to made sense again, and the once shapeless reality of thoughs Nyarlathotep was in became as clear as his translucent and bright, pharaoh robes. As the earth gods played around, laughed and hopped back and forth in the marble floor of their palace in Kadath, the black pharaoh fell silent while the word "Key" sank in, and it came afloat a newfound reasoning behind the Silver key Randolph Carter seemed to carry in many other worlds.

For Nyarlathotep was taking a look of the whole reality, and not the small fragments humans are bottled to see.

The Carter who lost... Who injured himself... Who hated and suffered from destrudo and nihilism, is and isn't the one who's reading right now his new horror novel, hundred of stray cats as an audience. Only gods are supposed to see the world whole and understand every angle and point of view, how watching just one face of the trapezoid is something we're usually doomed to, and no one with a weak mind is worth or even prepared to see the complete trapezoid, or take a glimpse of its insides. Because it doesn't matter how a gem is cut and we see many faces of it before having it turned into a complex piece of jewelry, it remains as the same. Looking prettier or uglier, it's the same, and Carter managed to get back the prettier side; going back to his childhood, leaving the moody self behind he became a more precious jewel, that's in fact the same one from before. All with the help of the Silver key, he changed and changed in search of something satisfactory, because humans' life is made of what they can enjoy and look forward to.

Just a few humans managed to do that before, and seldom they regain their composure from the shock, unlike Carter who not only rettained his very own knowledge of what's to come, but accepted that knowledge and continued onwards with renewed bravery; acquired inside these timeless halls. Nyarlathotep hadn't noticed the change, hadn't even bothered to look closely, since he saw things with no time due to it being just an illusion. He could see many Carters, the Australian one named after his friend Pickman, who shall fight to protect the remaining earth after decades and centuries, the one who learned witchery, the one who served a queen, the many aspects and small landscape details such as butterflies and comets, along shooting stars that can also be identified as Carter's archetype, of course there was as well the merciful and kind king of Ilek-Vad, who governed from an Opal throne.

Even from beyond, far away from Nyarlathotep's grip many Carters found reality in many other planets and bizarre words of infinite fantasy, like the warlock mammal from Yaddith; Zkauva, he who survived the invasion of the Dholes the crawling chaos set up under the orders of Shub-niggurath, all because of Carter and his complex plan to hibernate during so many years and travel back to Earth, return to where he left from, and learn properly how to use the key, then continue with a full life free from any shade of gray. One wonderful life, translucent and imaginative, beautifully horrid in so many ways Carter came to love and yearn in his daydreams.

Any other human wouldn't be able to be successful. No, in fact, no human could seize the mind of said alien wizard and understand the setting of a new world, full of windowless, cyclopean black towers that rose towards a completely different sky, with unknown machinery of a completely foreign planet surrounding him, and being capable of making it his own as he skillfully got a grip at using the dark claws Zkauba owned instead of hands, managing to build a functional ship that now exists somewhere, in the shape of a clock, while Carter has free will to come and go as much as he pleases. No longer forced under the disguise of the Swami Chandraputra, and the mammal long gone as if he hadn't mattered in the first place. What actually mattered is how in the world a plain and measly, for not saying outwardly dumb man is capable of such a feat? To surprise and anger the crawling Chaos, to enter in the translucent halls that glimmer beyond the gates of the Silver key? The once shallow spot grew to be not only noticed, Nyarlathotep found amusement in testing Carter over and over again, tease his spirit and will, soul and bravery, every aspect of him which remains hidden in any other being seen from a different angle, in any other Carter like the king or the novelist, or the one who chose to stay beyond the last of the gates, guarded by Umr at-Awill. The guide but also the key and the door, who foresaw Randolph Carter's arriving to said shimmering halls an eternity ago, he with the prolonged life who somehow favored the small man's spirit and allowed him in to find more than ever bargained for.

And after this, after so many adventures, after so many jumps to the void and laughs at the cruel destiny that fails not once, nor twice but every time it tries to stand in the way to his many goals; it came to the point Nyarlathotep had to admit that seeing Carter's downfall became his own goal. His fear of the unknown became faint, in comparison to his will to live and see everything. If anything, The black pharaoh could only think of the distressed face the man made while falling into the void, the maddening melody of the flutes as the music set for such an occasion; and these big, nostalgic eyes filled with tears in his helplessness, maybe a dreamer like Picasso would paint a portrait of said moment, but never would it be enough to carry the feeling of seeing such an adorable and wryly pitiful scene in person, which bubbled from the crawling Chaos a sadistic laughter he withheld until Randolph arrived Kadath. Laughable, a shallow and nostalgic human becoming the "goal" of the outer Gods' messenger... Misfortune after misfortune followed the man who thrived to reach happiness by any means.

His goal... To become his goal... Where did these words came from? Who said them in first place?

And despite his grin, despite the Pharaoh's wry grin, memories flowed back at an unpleasant rhythm. Things in this world seemed to have individual ways of working but everything itself is connected by a big spider web. Everything coming from Azathot, and things went down and down as everything is reduced to see the whole trapezoid and ignore the many wry, ugly, pretty, horrid or even unspeakable faces it may have. Everything started and ended with the archetypes; the original ones beyond, whose minds are the everything seen in small shards as the creatures filled infinite space with no specified boundaries or charts of any sort. For we are small divisions, shards if you might, of something bigger and the very knowledge they hold is the same one we risk our lives to get a glimpse of; yearning and failing over and over to subconsciously be whole. Carter would be whole if he ever wished to, for he who possessed the key is completely plausible, despite said path would lead him to madness and insanity; he with the prolonged life willfully allowed him inside these marvelous halls to raise him above human levels. And the reason was simple as cake, no one would ever blame The One in All to favor someone from his own archetype; a part of himself, himself from another angle, a diamond to be carved into a beautiful and astounding piece, but a diamond nevertheless.

Yog-sothoth knew it all. He saw this coming, a millenia ago his avatar Umr at-Awill sat inside the halls and waited patiently for Randolph Carter to come, and have the chance to catch a glimpse of the infinite knowledge, if it didn't happen today nor tomorrow, then he'll wait for another century and one day greet face to face the small shard of himself, who found his way back to where his origin is; like a lost baby in the darkness who found his way back to his mom's womb, after discovering the world is a scary place, wishing with his very soul to be reunited as a single being once again. And Umr at-Awill received him with open arms, glad for his arrival and willing to show him the right path to follow, testing his knowledge, and ultimately being satisfied by how everything developed itself. After all he knew how it would end, how it was unmistakable that Randolph would become more than a shallow spot, he became Nyarlathotep's goal like Yog-sothoth said it would, millenia ago, before so many things, even before the first one with the name of Carter, he already knew and enjoyed to never share more knowledge than the precise.

I will become your goal

These were his words. During times of endless madness, in which the Great race of Yith once again lost corporeal form and hurried towards the future, human cultists seemed the dominant especies over that muddy planet, filled with many wonders thanks to the elder beings and atrocities from beyond, continents and countries were divided not by names but by the predominant cult. Like the ones in hyperborea, or that one which held such a terrible fear towards Ghatanothoa and its unspeakable appearance, or the ones that took place in the middle of a frozen sea, just above where Cthulhu is fast asleep in R'lyeh. Insanity and dead everywhere, so many things to do for Nyarlathotep and many places to get amusement from; not that he could stay quiet for a moment, coming and going from his father's court where he was tasked not mundane tasks but infinitely important ones; lending his ear to every request and complying as the earth took shape with or without the need for the outer gods to meddle. Getting his duties done, spreading despair and insanity over a place dulled to rot couldn't have been a better job for the crawling Chaos, meddling with his thousand avatars from a place to another, there was no time to rest when such a destructive potential made itself present every step humans managed to take in their short story.

In plain words, they amused him. Why should he ever deny it? But this didn't go unnoticed, while Nyarlathotep had free will; something his father gave him from the very first moment, the first one to actually say something was Yog-sothoth. Always wonderfully shining, the light of every era to come and the malevolent glittering of dark, destructive times in the story of the starry galaxy; like a candle lit by a warm and constant blaze that illuminated the path, but yet something you can't take hold of, for the fire being as merciless as it is vital. His knowledge is vital for mankind and for the many races that are to come someday or are already here; yet if you ever try to make a grab for him not only you'll end blind by the light, you won't get burned but the sight will indeed burn into your eyes and brain, defy the barrier of logical though and drive anyone to madness. Insanity seems to be still so little in comparison to... Everything beyond... So many possibilities... Witnessed through the same translucent veil Umr at-Awill wears over his eyes, and overall his lithe body.

Yog-sothoth wouldn't reprimand him, neither would he be petty or mad about Nyarlathotep's constant interest in otherworldly chaos, he knew the messenger all too well to even think about it for far more than a few moments. The only thing Yog-sothoth wished to let him known, via Umr at-Awill, is how he found distasteful that Nyarlathotep never settled his eyes on him for a fleeting second. He wasn't upset about it, but maybe... Frustrated, if anything. The crawling Chaos was busy in every single aspect of his long life time, hence so many avatars to carry on many tasks he not only had the duty to get done but also wished on a personal level; something Yog-sothoth perfectly understood but usually found himself being left behind, and Azathot or his court, or Shub-niggurath were always chosen over him. And he found the answer to be sour, without Nyarlathotep needing to even point it out. Yog was his master as well, and with all the due respect he found tasteless how the All in One never had a request, not destructive nor chaotic or even plain, he knew enough to have everything he needed at hand reach; just small and mundane tasks every now and then and honestly Nyarlathotep loathed them. Noticeable, even from afar, and not exactly what Yog-sothoth had wanted. But nevertheless knew would be happening, for he it was like a pretty much expected chess move. Everything is always like that in his infinite existence, and he actually found some form of twisted pleasure in seeing how others struggled with small facts he knew all too well and wasn't willing to share or explain; despite neutral in every aspect he showed off some malevolence and amusement that others couldn't fathom to ever understand, every outer god has their own sense of humor.

Due that, it wasn't surprising the composed, noble grin that made its way under the veil. Umr at-Awill needed no answers from Nyarlathotep in that matter, Yog-sothoth is the answer. Yog-sothoth is the answer and the question, and in spite of the slight frustration he felt at being under anything else his messenger had in mind; it was immediately pushed back and discarded as a petty emotion towards a matter with no remedy. It would be impossible to have the crawling Chaos all for himself, accompanying him in infinite knowledge and isolation, like he wished to; many other duties were (or at least seemed) way more important than having his way with Nyarlathotep; to converse with him and let the dark emissary at his feet, as petty as these desires may sound, the reasoning was as old as time itself. In Azathot's court the only intelligible thing is the sound of demonic flutes, pipes, drums and the occasional whistle; the daemon sultan in the center of it all slipped in and out of dreams, waiting for the moment of the massive demise or the plain fact of every thing returning to the core, the musicians never once stopped playing with malice their fiendish melody, and Shub-niggurath came and went millenia in, millenia out. Giving birth, then eating the young then giving birth again forever in an endless cycle, more concerned for her dark young spreading around the cosmos by their own means and by Nyarlathotep himself.

In that instance, someone - anyone - could justify every wrong or right doing due loneliness. After all, rabbits die from loneliness; this principle as pitiful as it is a reality. Yog-sothoth was indeed craving the attention of someone he could talk to, and someone who would listen and keep up a chat as normal as two outer gods casually drinking a cup of tea. But this was not possible now; the once before said fact with no remedy, Nyarlathotep had many other goals to set his mind unto and certainly Yog isn't one of them. Not specifically, he wants to please every outer god as their loyal emissary, that's his will and duty, but back then the crawling Chaos had no spare moments to think from where Yog-sothoth's desire for him came from. One might think such a vast knowledge would be enough for a cosmic deity, but in fact it sometimes became plain and boring, and that's when he desired Nyarlathotep close. He was the All in One and One in all, omnipresent and omniscient, but during fractions of infinity yearned for his affection towards the crawling Chaos to be reciprocated. Even when he knew Nyarlathotep could quite keep himself amused and wouldn't ever be more devoted to him than he already is to every outer god.

That's when the order came in. Not a exchange of words before, because it was unnecessary and both of them recognized said fact.

"Mate me"

That's the closest translation to what he said. It wasn't exactly mating but akin to it in human concepts; way more deep and ethereal, something of deep intimacy in a aberrant way that would alter material and immaterial alike. To be honest, nuclear fusion seems more akin in human concepts, yet it still sounded incredibly poor and weak in comparison to said experience. And so, Nyarlathotep had no qualms into pleasing one of his masters like the honor it really was; with any of his thousand avatars the crawling Chaos was allowed to take him in any way he liked or found convenient; it was never stated but implicit, had Yog wished for it to be any different Nyarlathotep would have been informed already. And he wasn't backing down once it began; Umr at-Awill is petite like a doll made out of light and beautiful while shrouded in his thin and shimmering veil, just like Yog-sothoth is beautiful while shining in malevolent, otherworldly glows. The way the veil completely covers his small and shining frame, and words from every Era dripped from him with ease during a state of pure ecstasy, to the point the crawling Chaos himself failed to understand these moans but nevertheless continued with the task at hand. No matter how long it apparently lasted it was never enough, Nyarlathotep had to go back to other duties and leave after Yog informed him his work had been efficient enough, as it always is, yet understood how it wasn't something to be repeated in the centuries to come. Such consequences could be annoying to take care of, and so many things to be done in the near future; despite Yog wanted more of it he knew it wouldn't be happening. Nyarlathotep wouldn't seek him for that, wouldn't have it to be his goal but show his plain respect to one of his fellow masters.

But still, he foresaw it. He knows the answer, Yog-sothoth is the answer and the reason behind it.

"I will become your goal"

And the dark messenger would be lying if he said there wasn't some malevolence behind these words, the humor owned by Yog-sothoth in which he could see far beyond and others can't, to know things others don't has always been a malicious pleasure both to humanity and many other races out of our comprehension. Probably derivatives from the All in One, and his omniscience and omnipresence. The crawling Chaos knew it had some meaning; there had to be some meaning, but so many angles this world has, so many avatars he owns; it would be a hassle to even notice which one of them or in which situation, and thinking over and over again has never been healthy for anyone. Hence ignorance is bliss.

It wasn't a phrase neither it was a warning, but a bundle of whispered words any other would have missed, but at the same time could be understood with ease if one's willing to pay attention. And he knew Nyarlathotep is willing to listen to anything, order or task, request, any. And brought some sort of satisfaction to Yog-sothoth, satisfaction he'll hold unto until said prophecy became a reality. Until then, he'll wait patiently as he always does, in the translucent and shining space beyond the locked door; surrounded by seated figures, Umr at-Awill just waited for millennia to come and go at its own pace, it was a blink of an eye to him, and so decided to sing a song which came from his prophecy while the time flow continued onwards.

It was incredibly different from the maddening melody every outer god is used to hear and play, lacking flutes and drums, the song itself seemed to be gentle light of the sun filtering through a window and flowing around with ease. Ever powerful but also calming enough, it was a song Yog-sothoth made his. The fiendish but absolutely fascinating Symphony of an otherworldly orchestra is Azathot's trademark, respected and loved, feared and yearned, Yog-sothoth would not compare his piece with that one because they're not in the same level of reality; it would be like bringing a rock to a snail contest, no matter how fancy, rare or valuable the rock is, it isn't a snail and can't be compared as better or lesser.

As melodious and unexplainably odd as it was, the seated figures perked up to listen quietly, no more grunts coming from them, as Umr at-Awill guided their minds to ease with his song, and Nyarlathotep was sure he could recognize it no matter how many times it would be twisted to different languages expressed through different means.

"Seek from within, from within

Then you will begin to see past uncertainty.

Let out your cries from within, from within

Remember who you used to be

Everyday can be your new beginning"

And Nyarlathotep could understand how it completed the puzzle, he meant Randolph Carter and how he developed. Seeking from within, within himself was the key to amaze himself and return to his beloved dreamlands, within himself is the truth of who he is, and then the grey, worthless past will be gone for good. Uncertainty of the fact that a free, imaginative mind like his own ever became trapped by the binds of mundane and measly things. Crying from withing, crying out to within himself would make him see again the light of the All in One that's always been within himself, then he could remember who he used to be. With the help of the Silver key, everyday can be a new beginning for every Carter that wanders around this cosmos, carrying within themselves the truth of all things; because Yog-sothoth knows the truth. Yog-sothoth is the truth and the fantasy, since fantasy can be as real as the dreams we are able to see, falsehood is for those who can't see nor comprehend. And Carter can comprehend.

The song carried on and on, and Umr at-Awill shall sing it again when the time comes, and so he did as Randolph Carter eventually reached the translucent halls, and accepted Umr at-Awill as his guide. Had the man had a physical form, the avatar would have cupped his face lovingly and received him inside the last door while musing sweet words upon his arrival, like a father receiving a son after he took every heirloom and sailed apart from his family, yet once again returned ashamed of his actions, asking for much granted forgiveness. And Yog-sothoth could only embrace him, guide him to where he belongs, allow him to return to his wistful boyhood which is where Carter belongs.

Oh my dear incomplete being, this world hasn't known how to take care of you.

Nyarlathotep could almost hear him, gladly accepting the young man and showing him how they're one and only, an entity with the same face in the end but at the same time they aren't. Carter is like the baby who rejected this world and returned to his mother's womb, willfully being once again connected by a fleshy thread that feeds him life, but reunited once again with his creator; being together and the same one like it's meant to be for him to attain eternal happiness. And while Carter's mind processed every detail and info of the truth in front of himself, he with the prolonged life sang faintly, sang about Carter. About his dear incomplete being that shall one day become Nyarlathotep's goal. Like it was meant to be.

If he couldn't have the crawling Chaos by normal means, then this way shall things be, the All in One shouldn't ever be underestimated; for he likes to turn your mind into a swirling tornado of many data and scenery. To the point you'll lose your sanity, or maybe the concept of sanity is not even necessary. Maybe insane persons just know too much, and the first branch of random knowledge to reach their throat is the one they decide to share. Randolph Carter may be insane, but keeps his knowledge in neat order to continue moving forwards and just use the precise amount in the needed definite moment.

Someday such a knowledge will take him to higher flights, for he'll be the cherished king of Ilek-Vad in the dreamlands, after he had enjoyed every mystery and fairy charm of his dream city. Like Kuranes he shall reign, with the Silver key in hand and a thousand cats to purr for his enjoyment.

But not still, not today. And after so many amusing realizations today Nyarlathotep became eager to visit him. Just to drop by, and congratulate him for the accomplishment... Not to hurt him in any way, if he wanted to Carter would be six times death by now. This man who brought him so much amusement suddenly had a lot more to see, and the more complex things became... More complex the trama of a story is, it keeps you from dropping the book aside right now; just to read it again and again until the surprises fade and it becomes plain text which carries no emotions. Is Randolph Carter ever going to stop surprising, amusing the crawling Chaos? Who knows and who cares, as long as it is entertaining for now; he'll say Yog-sothoth really brought in a tiny little surprise for him.

After Carter wished good night to his black cat (for not mentioning the many others) he also gazed for last time that day the evanescence in the night sky. The pollution was minimal there, and Polaris' light stung his eyes as they closed at their own. Had he expected to dream today? Of course, had he expected the crawling Chaos to greet him? Not tonight, at least.

 

The first thing he saw upon slipping into his dreams, was the massive room made out of marble and Onyx that despite dark, shone with its own light in a burning intensity compared to that of the diamonds. And looking around, he could recognize the absurdity of size difference between himself and this room; or the whole castle for the matter. It was Kadath, in the cold waste where earth gods sit in their thrones to eat delicacies and daydream during their playtime. An attempt to move allowed Carter to notice he was restrained; hands pinned above his head by some uncanny force he couldn't see nor point out, his body rested over a loveseat of sorts, with crimson red cushions embroidered in golden. Trying to move and shift his weight, Randolph squirmed against the unknown binds that injured his wrists. No matter, the task was left aside as footsteps echoed in the large corridors, a figure made its presence at the end of it, but in the blink of an eye it was already in front him.

Grin creeping into his face, the young pharaoh of flashy robes and shining crown meet Carter's eyes. The noble-looking, delicate but beautifully clad avatar Nyarlathotep used last time they meet in the same place, but not in the same conditions. It seems like this time he simply couldn't wait for Randolph to come at his own will, he wanted this now and by any means he was getting it.

"We meet again, Randolph Carter"

With mockingly sweet words the pharaoh dragged out the young dreamer's name, the name that identified so many other versions but also was his. At this, Carter frowned and glared into his eyes but didn't quite get the effect he hoped for. His facial features were way too soft, and it actually came out as a pout due the fact he's afraid, but knows very well how to hold his ground. Instead of glaring daggers like he tried, his nostalgic, blue eyes just stared behind his glasses.

"Why did you bring me here? What do you want?"

His voice didn't waver, an hostile hint to it, his words carried on the bravery he attained and fought to maintain while the world continued to pull on his leg. Because the man who fears is not cowardly, but he who lacks spirit to face his fears undoubtedly is. Nyarlathotep wasn't scaring him out of his skin, not like the yellow clad priest did before nor the moon beasts.

"Why, dearest, it wasn't me but your own desire what summoned you back here"

Dirty lie. He indeed dragged the young dreamer here, but he wasn't about to lose the opportunity to tease Carter and his purposes, the desire within himself and the fearlessness to receive what he came looking for. Fearlessness upon which he posed a defiant glare that clearly screamed I don't believe you, and maybe I don't trust you as well. It was absolutely adorable and Nyarlathotep couldn't help but chuckle.

"I just took this opportunity to treat you with all due courtesy, and prevent you from running away before we have the chance to talk"

He reached and touched Carter's wrists, and immediately the invisible bind dissappeared and his arms fell to his sides like wet noodles, the first reaction being to rub his wrists and notice the marks in them; as if very thigh cuffs had been there seconds ago. But the relief wave he felt washed away when the pharaoh leaned closer to him, his hands in each side of the love seat, his face got closer to Carter's as the young man tried to back away and found his head hitting the wall instead, Nyarlathotep wasn't allowing him to even get comfortable and stretch his tangled body, his legs immediately found their way to press themselves to his chest as the God stranded him, leaving no room for any possible escape. Carter tried to curl himself into a ball as much as he could, flustered due the unnecessary closeness, but every inch he squirmed was another inch Nyarlathotep drew closer.

"Show it to me" the pharaoh whispered into his ear, his tone dangerous and low in demand but also laced with the same sweetness of the moon wine.   
"The Silver key" he specified, and the young dreamer felt a shiver run down his spine, his eyes widening at the sole mention of a very familiar name.

Nyarlathotep knew. Of course he knew, few things escape his grasp, Randolph was actually surprised he hadn't brought the matter before. It would be unlikely for him to try an snatch the key from him; after all in the hands of a God, who already possesses unlimited avatars, it would be as useless as in the hands of a fool. Ah, but had these logic arguments ever stopped the crawling Chaos from doing anything that in his eyes, is as chaotic as it is amusing? Surely not, just a distressed face from Carter would be good enough reward, such an action were to him akin to stealing a candy from a kid; no one should let their guard down against a God who brought forth decay and insanity just for the sake of it. Suddenly the thick key hanging from his neck like a necklace seemed to burn into the skin of his chest, where it remained hidden under his dress shirt and cardigan, away from the curious eyes of any robber. Today he just wished he could have left it in the drawers of his apartment, but it seemed such a pity to keep something as valuable and meaningful to him locked forever in a wooden box that one day shall rot. Though Randolph didn't respond, the pharaoh grinned widely with sharp teeth the small man hadn't noticed before.

"Worry not, little dreamer. I'm not taking from you the prize you dearly hold unto, I just want to see it"

He reassured in a low, honey laced purr. And there's no way he'll be waiting for Carter to bring himself together and brag about his cherished piece of treasure, as much as he craved some acknowledgement deep inside (which is perfectly normal for a frustrated writer) is not in his timid nature to suddenly gain confidence and show off. 

"Now"  
His tone demanding as before, with a movement of his slim, long nailed and delicate hand, the key attached to the necklace floated from the insides of Carter's clothing and unto the surface, where it flowed with ease to Nyarlathotep's grasp. Holding it carefully, it remained connected to the man's neck, and the crawling Chaos licked his lips upon the view of a clearly upset dreamer. How couldn't he, despite his fear at the possibility of being strangled by the necklace, and the general awkwardness and shame he felt at being seized so easily, there was also the indignation in the daring glow of his Cristal blue eyes; like when a woman has her hair carelessly grabbed, the God just made him felt violated by grabbing the key without any care for what he had to say about it. He looked morbidly and awfully cute.

Just as Nyarlathotep though, it was wonderfully designed out of the purest silver, engraved in designs and seals Abdul Alhazred dreamt of during his erudite years, immune to rust and any other staining elements of the outside world and the outer galaxies. Thick but not quite weighing as much as it should due it's properties, the key will forever remain untainted and now that belongs to Carter, it will surely be cherished for many generations and always be as pristine as it is valuable through time and chaos, since Yog-sothoth is the key. Yog-sothoth is the key and the door as well.

Once he was satisfied enough, and took in every detail in Carter's pout, the key was released and drifted back to its rightful place. The young man letting out a visible sigh of relief he had been holding unto, his hand flew to feel for the key under his clothes.

"It's indeed a prize to cherish"  
He mused and his fingers found their way under Carter's chin, lifting it so he would look up at the young but poisonous, dark eyes of the pharaoh. Still he averted his gaze, wary and clutching his chest- where the key laid hidden.

"Such a big accomplishment for such a small dreamer, Randolph Carter"  
His words dripped sweet and sugary mock, but as frustrated as said dreamer was due the indignant posture, and as wary as he's of the whole situation at hand, Randolph didn't let the mockery sink in and get under his skin. Just tried to keep his eyes apart from the God in front of him. Tasteless gesture, but Nyarlathotep could forgive him. Who knows what would happen if they lock eyes? Maybe the adrenaline rush would force him to do a barbarie with no reason, for they were having a quite nice chat here, but Carter is yet to add a commentary of his own. Ignore whatever you want away, until it's gone. Not the best tactic, Nyarlathotep has his way to get what he wants from people. For now, he'll just take the man's silence as recognition of the fact he's indeed small.

"Or should I call you other way? Maybe Zkauba? Which one do you prefer?"

And this evidently made his face harden, the amusement in the crawling Chaos' tone is infuriating when he's talking about something that brought him a psychological trauma, like the wound on his back, sometimes Carter finds himself jolting awake and feeling for it just to discover it's no more. Equally, some days he looks at the mirror and fears of seeing the mammal with black claws and long nose, staring back at him with resentment. But then again, when is said mocking tone ever well received? It's meant to laugh at the perpetual comedy of horrors that takes place every day.

"I am Randolph Carter, please call me that way"

He's not pleased, and the tone is evident. The dreamer doesn't want to say anything else about that, Nyarlathotep already knows everything there's to know and using it to mess with him, in revenge for foiling his plan and reaching his fair city. He only hoped, that sooner or later he would become tired and allow him to go back. 

"Understood, Randy"  
And there the nickname the servants of his family used to call him with... With such a condescending tone.  
"Nevertheless, it's kinda fascinating to see a small human thriving back and forth, carrying onwards your many adventures and victories, particularly the last one in which you remembered my words of advise and reached the place where you truly belong"

And despite himself, Randolph shifted in his place. The crawling Chaos wasn't certainly not complimenting him, and he certainly wasn't allowing these words to sink in. The true praise came after the publishing of his stories, it was the one Kuranes gave him in the form of a proud nod of a master to his apprentice, and the way Harley would praise him for staying strong despite the injury in his back. He had to be strong now, sooner or later this moment was fated to occur; in which the dark messenger would face him head on. The All in One knew, as he knows everything, and the ties between them allowed him to fully understand the reality he would come to face, but had to stay strong and face it head on, fearing but determined, Harley would praise him with his ever sweet, ever mysterious aura.

Carter wanted so badly to point out how he almost died thanks to Nyarlathotep, how almost found a fate worse than death, but found that the dark pharaoh probably didn't care and so, Randolph brushed it away as well. He was upset, but nothing else to be expected from he who's named after The Crawling Chaos. Status quo remained, untainted, and that's how it's meant to be. So, instead of arguing or commenting the sudden interest in the dark messenger, Carter tried to keep himself grounded and spare no words, even after the shiver that ran down his body when the young pharaoh grabbed his chin roughly and forced his gaze directly at him; blue eyes meeting dark ones devoid of light, but still owned some beautiful and tender kind of ever present light, like the onyx of the castle. Try as he might, but Randolph couldn't stop himself from gazing into them for what seemed like an eternity, even disregarding how Nyarlathotep's smile crept into his face in a impossible way, or at least impossible for any human.

"Do you understand, Randolph Carter? You fascinate me..."

And Randolph couldn't help but close his eyes as he heard how Nyarlathotep's open palms slammed into the wall behind him, and he pressed himself against the small man's curled form; he could feel the heat rush to his face just knowing how absurdly and uncomfortably close the God was, assaulting his personal space and breathing into his neck, making every hair stand out just for the fun of teasing Randolph by provoking sensations he's not comfortable with but neither can't help. There was a sound somewhere as well, a whimper? It took a few seconds for Carter to realize it was his own, and in return bit his lip in frustration because he gave Nyarlathotep something else to amuse himself from. 

"You do it on purpose? Do you want my attention so badly...?"

He pressed his body to Carter even further, if that was even possible, and the dreamer squirmed in place and let out a squeal as he opened his eyes but wished with all his might he hadn't; the pharaoh had his face so close the space may have been equal to nule. Whatever he wanted to do, Carter wasn't glad to just let it happen and sink into the embrace of a God, it was a luck he wasn't standing because the teasing and the little space to breathe wouldn't allow him to remain grounded, such a closeness was something he only shared a few times with Harley and the sole whisper in his ear would make him cream into the other's arms.

"I guess I can give it to you, even if for today. I have more tasks to tend to, but they can wait... I'll make an exception for you, so... Be grateful Randy"

The confused face Carter made was utterly adorable, and had it been Umr at-Awill he would have smiled so brightly with satisfaction, that it would have been easily noticeable even with his veil. He'd surely allow Nyarlathotep to do as he pleases as long as he's caught his attention, he'd surely allow the emissary reach his goal with him. Was his goal to destroy Carter? Maybe, depends on which meaning you use to define "to destroy". Does he want to have fun with Carter? Irrelevant question, the man can be amusing and funny to him without even trying, he's the kind of being you must find a thousand ways to exploit and get entertainment from, at least until it stops being amusing or it breaks. Does he want to own Carter? Is that his goal? He would love to have for himself that nostalgic eyes and weak but also brave soul, and be the only owner of that cute face flushed in dark red when the inches between them finally dissappear, a kiss taking place instead.

Needless to say, the small dreamer was flushed to the bone; Nyarlathotep wondered what other kind of absolutely delightful reactions he could come to ignite from the human, just now he wasn't even being rough but only a bit demanding. How couldn't he? It was such a fascinating experience to explore the many adorable faces he made, and how he tried to squirm in place in his desperate need to breathe. Too bad, the pharaoh was just starting to savour the moment. Grinning wickedly, his sharp teeth found their way to bite Carter's bottom lip and force his mouth open; a small pained noise got stuck halfway in his throat as he felt the God's tongue enter his mouth.

Randolph couldn't believe it; the way the Crawling Chaos seemed to be taking... Sexual advances towards him? How else to label it? Or that's, at least, what it looks like he's doing; someone as Nyarlathotep who's versed in the subject of teasing people, he perfectly knew which buttons to push for Carter to react in... Embarrassing ways. He couldn't help the blush in his face at being kissed after so long; for the matter it was the first time he had been actually kissed, at least ever since going back to his childhood with the key. He's yet to meet Harley, and had gently declined every other who would set their eyes on him. But seemingly the Crawling Chaos could perfectly take this as his advantage, giving him intimacy and violating his mouth with such an intent to seize him; to make him submit and crave for more, or maybe to make him choke with no plausible way to grasp for air. Whichever happens first.

For a moment, he tried to struggle and felt how the God dominated his mouth by shamelessly running his tongue along the roof and feeling every inch of it, to which in return Carter couldn't help but feel the dangerously sharp teeth that dared to tear his mouth every time he struggled. Had Nyarlathotep wanted to use them to injure him, he would have already done it when he bit his bottom lip, but that wasn't meant to injure him, wasn't it? Yes, of course, no matter the context anything amusing to Nyarlathotep must include pain or sorrow, in this context maybe the pained noises coming from the small dreamer probably ignited in the dark pharaoh some sexual arousal of sorts, but as stated before if he wanted to kill Carter he would be six times death by now. He just wanted to play with the man... And the implications of becoming a God's subject of interest probably meant becoming a doll to play with as well. A brand new doll with many buttons to press and many ways to play until it breaks... The though was as horrifying as it was... Well, whatever else Carter felt was suppressed by the fatality of being kissed to death right now.

Luckily enough, for today it seems as if Nyarlathotep for once realized the fragility of human life and let him go; his mouths still connected by a delicate string of saliva that ran down to Randolph's chin, and became the final touch to the God's piece of art. Grinning wickedly, he allowed himself to drink in the pleasure of said image; Carter was flushed dark red, in contrast to his sickly pale skin; his glasses nearly falling from the bridge of his nose, his head pressed against the wall and disheveled his already messy and shaggy dark hair, he tried to keep his gaze down as these infinitely gleaming crystal eyes seemed to be darkened and his breath came out in pants, chest rising and falling rapidly as the saliva leaked from the side of his swollen, thin lips. Completely curled into a ball, he only needed a small bow in his head to look like a birthday present; Nyarlathotep could almost hear his slaves singing happy birthday... Ha.

"Why you...?"  
The question died down midway, the young man's voice sounded embarrassed and full of indignation, probably stopping due the fact that's the only thing he can muster right now. Why? Maybe he didn't want to hear any answers, or maybe he just felt too embarrassed to ask why a God would kiss him; knowing it probably was for the sake of teasing and messing with his mind.

"Me?"  
The tone Nyarlathotep used was so sweet and innocent, it could have been a child for all Carter knew.  
"I am just giving you a much needed show of my affection, don't you like it?"  
And as fast as it came, the innocence was gone and replaced for a venomous whisper to Carter's ear.

"You can't say no, I know you do"

Carter had to bit his bottom lip, the small gash Nyarlathotep's teeth made bleed in response and the metallic taste filled his mouth. He wanted to deny it, to point out something but the dark emissary beat him. Nyarlathotep knew him, and how he's human as well despite his ties with the All in One. Like any other man, he craved for attention and for being recognized in a way or another. He wanted people to see him, to pay attention to him, to care, he wanted someone to tuck his hair behind his ear and hold him close just like he does with his little cat, so the animal knows it's never alone no matter what. He certainly wanted to be tended to, but didn't quite know how to feel at the expense of becoming a doll to Nyarlathotep; who was only exploiting his deepest desires against him.

"You already had your fun... let me go"

And he wasn't staying a second longer to let it go on and on. Surely Nyarlathotep had more stuff to do, and already embarrassed him enough to be pleased for a while. Or so Carter though, think twice because the way the pharaoh's smile dissappeared and his brow quirked didn't indicate an intent to listen to the dreamers request. And the way said man stayed silent in return didn't quite appeal him, either.

"Ah, but we were just getting started"  
The grin returned, but it was twisted in a impossible way that seemed to stretch out across his whole face and his sharp teeth could be seen, menacingly peeking out.

"What's the matter? You don't like me this way enough?"

Before Carter could say a thing, could retort or even feel unnerved by the smirk, the pharaoh was no more. In the blink of an eye, there was a mass of golden tentacles everywhere, trapping the dreamer in between all of them; mouth open in silent horror as the gelatinous masses brushed along him and felt mushy against his skin. Repulsion strained his features as he couldn't bring himself to move, his legs not responding but his body seemed repellent of touching such a mass.

What about this one? Do you like it? 

The voice was in Carter's head, and all he could do was shook his head and grit his teeth in fear; immediately the golden repulsion was gone and replaced by a dark being with wings and no face, as well as a crow and incredibly thin, razor sharp fingers in the humanoid form.

I can be whatever appeals you.

This time it sounded as determined as it sounded mockingly; and he changed again. And again and again and again. Over and over and over, and the uncanny horror in Carter's eyes was delightful in so many ways... A moment he was a man with sharp, barbaric features and tall antlers, then he changed into a morbidly obese woman with an absurdly long and thick tongue, then there was some kind of colorful and smoking figure, then a sphinx of sorts, then a bat like creature, then an horribly old an wrinkled old man with dwarfish features-

Then a blonde young man dressed in white, then a woman whose skin was peeling from her bones, then a fiendish equine faced demon, then an horrible monster with bloody red tentacles, then the high priest not to be named, clad in silken yellow robes just like Carter remembered him, then an awfully tall monster with a tentacle instead of a face, then-

It was so fast and horrifying, utterly morbid that Carter only managed a ragged scream at first, but ultimately could muster an expression of mute horror, watching things any human shouldn't. He couldn't anymore, every atrocity was too much to bear and register if he didn't want to have a sudden attack of apoplexy. Or one of these aberrations killed him just for the fun of it, in any case he didn't have a death wish.

"S-Stop...! Please just stop!"  
He managed out, and braced himself as if that could protect him from every eldrich abomination above him.

"I can stay if that's what you want, but please just go back to how you were. I don't want to see every form of yours, so please... Stop"

Tears were in the corners of his eyes, and he was practically begging; hoping for the horrors beside him would vanish, or for his cat to jolt him awake even if that's probably not happening as Nyarlathotep has him exactly where he wants. He eyes were tightly shut, and his hand held the spot in his chest were the Silver key laid, silently telling himself to not fear and trying to calm himself down by murmuring a small song that often popped in his mind. A melodious voice sang it quietly and it was almost as if the owner of said voice caressed him to make his nerves go away. It did help, and Carter was sure it had something to do with the All in One and the guide, Umr at-Awill. He with the prolonged life is always so calm and knows how to lead him, recognizing what may or may not cause turmoil in his heart, they're all connected and he knows his guide and that fragment of himself won't leave him alone, so he allowed the melody to just take over his mind a forget every aberrant form burned into his eyes.

Breathe in, the waters the clouds and the dews

Put out the fires taking control over you

Poke down a hole, bury a sapling

Flourish, let it Flourish

Hearts shall become a forest

If he allowed himself to get lost in the song a minute ago or an hour ago, he had no idea, but as it calmed down Randolph's pounding and panicked heart, the horrors beyond the happy place he tried to create within himself, stopped. A delicate, tanned hand of a smug looking pharaoh caressed his cheek and gently forced him to meet his gaze. The hand felt smooth and soft like silk against his skin, and the thumb gently brushed away a stray tear that rolled down his cheek, Carter had no idea when. He just tried to hold the gaze of the amused and pleased crawling Chaos.

"So, this time it was me who became your goal"

Said him with the grin that allowed his sharp teeth to be seen, almost keeping at bay his need to laugh at the irony of the situation. It was this shape who became Carter's goal to have... For now. He'll make sure the dreamer comes to enjoy and accept each of them. Like Yog-sothoth does, Carter's curiosity will eventually show of his archetype, and how they can come to be each other's goal in this seemingly endless game.

**Author's Note:**

> The part with the snail contest and the rock is a reference to SpongeBob Squarepants :) 
> 
> The mentioned song is "Within" by the music unit Mili!


End file.
